For Crying Out Loud
by Minttown1
Summary: CJ/Danny. Rating for language. Just an odd little story with a sweater, binders, and too much dialouge. Enjoy!


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You'll never believe what I found. Yeah, my first West Wing fanfic! The story behind the story follows. Enjoy. (Or try to.)

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For Crying Out Loud

by Minttown1

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"Oh my God, CJ, what happened?" Donna Moss asked as she jumped up from her desk and followed the much taller woman down the hall.

"Nothing. I'm fine," CJ Cregg replied as she made her way to the nearest bathroom with Donna in tow.

"But you're covered in blood," Donna told her in a voice suggesting that perhaps she did not know.

"I'm aware of that. I was in an accident, and I cracked my forehead on the mirror."  
  
Donna suppressed a giggle and followed CJ into the bathroom where she was washing the dried blood from her face and hair.

"Your shirt and jacket are ruined."  
  
"I know that, Donna." CJ gently touched the cut on her forehead. She turned and walked back to her office.

Josh Lyman saw them and came to the doorway of CJ's office. "What happened?" he asked Donna.

"She cut her forehead in a car accident coming to work."  
  
"Her forehead?"  
  
"Yeah, on the mirror."

"Is she okay?"  
  
"Yes, I'm fine," CJ told him as she closed her compact and dropped in onto the desk. "But I have a press briefing in fifteen minutes and I need a shirt."  
  
"CJ needs a shirt," Josh told an apparently bewildered Sam Seaborn who was standing in the hall. Josh turned to CJ and asked, "Don't you have a shirt here?"  
  
"I don't need a shirt here. I don't tend to wear any of the same clothes two days in a row."  
  
"She's implying that we do," Josh told Sam.

  
"We do."  
  
"But still. I'll go find you a shirt, CJ," Josh said and walked away. Sam followed him down the hall. Josh said something and Sam laughed.

"You can laugh now too, Donna," CJ said, taking off her jacket and throwing it into the corner.

"Why would I laugh?" Donna asked innocently?  
  
"Got one!" Josh said as he and Sam returned. Josh tossed her a sweater.

CJ looked at him in disbelief. "You're telling me to wear a men's sweater to a press briefing? I'm not even allowed to wear women's sweaters!"

"No one's going to say anything," Josh told her.

"Extenuating circumstances," Sam agreed.

"Go ahead," Josh urged her. "You need to get to the press room."  
  
"Can you all leave, then?"  
  
"Yeah. Don't forget, there's a meeting at 10:00."  
  
"I know. Go."  
  
She quickly changed from her ruined shirt into the sweater, and stepped out into the hall, where Josh stood waiting for her.

"What?" she asked, as she walked to the press room.

"You look very comfortable in that sweater," he told her. He waited until she was halfway through the door, them whispered, "Danny will be pleased."  
  
She spun around. "Josh! You can't send me into a press briefing wearing Danny Concannon's sweater!"

"Looking comfortable in it, no less," he teased. "Seriously, CJ, they all know what happened. No one will say anything."  
  
"No, of course, because careless speculation has never been a problem before."  
  
"You're late."  
  
"I know," she said, and walked to the podium in the front of the room.

As she looked out over the room of reporters before beginning, Danny caught her eyes and mouthed, "You look wonderful."

She was more than a little surprised by his comment, considering where they were.

"Good morning," she began. She stumbled her way through the mercifully routine press briefing, took a few questions, and bowed out as gracefully as possible with a joke about her accident. She hurried to her office and closed the door.

Not five minutes later came the expected knock. "Come in," she told the door.

"Good morning," Danny said as he leaned in the doorway. He never actually closed the door when they spoke anymore because of what it could do to her credibility. _What bullshit_.

"Good morning," she replied.

"I didn't mean to rattle you earlier, I was just teasing. I mean, I meant it, you do look wonderful, but me saying it there, and with the sweater and everything was just to play..."

  
"I know."  
  
"You can keep the sweater if you want."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Yeah. Wait, you actually want it?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"You offered me a gift, and now I have to explain myself for taking it? Unless, of course, it's a bribe."  
  
"It is, but a personal one, not a professional one."

"Did it cost less than twenty dollars?"  
  
"I think so. But it's depreciated in value anyway."  
  
"No it hasn't," she replied cryptically.

He was not sure what she was saying, though he knew what he hoped. He decided to let it go. "So you're okay?"  
  
"About the accident or your stunt at the press briefing?"  
  
"Both. And it wasn't a stunt."  
  
"I'm fine. But it wasn't professional behavior either."  
  
"I'm not allowed to compliment someone I work with?"  
  
"You don't work with me. Or above me or under me. Mainly I'm a resource in your work."  
  
"Well, I compliment my dictionary every day."  
  
"Then you're odd."  
  
"I know. Will you take me up on dinner tonight?"  
  
"No, I have things to do all night."  
  
"We can go late," he offered, sensing she was in a better-than-usual mood where he was concerned.

"She that stack of papers? That all needs to be done before 7:00 tomorrow morning."  
  
He looked at a stack of six binders, each totally filled. "What is it?"  
  
"I can't really tell you that, can I?"  
  
"Oh, no, you can't. I wasn't asking to try to find anything out. Sorry."  
  
"Don't worry about it, Danny. I'll see you this afternoon."

"Have a nice day. Good-bye," he said and left, closing the door.

The next few hours were uneventful for CJ. She sat in her office and worked most the way through the top binder before needing to go to the 10:00 meeting.

She was the first one in the room, and she say down for the first calm moment of her day.

A few minutes later, Toby Ziegler came in and stared at her quizzically.

"What?" she asked him.

"Nothing. It's just...Why are you wearing Danny Concannon's sweater?"  
  
"Because he and I have been carrying on a wild affair in my office, and somewhere out there Danny is wearing my silk blouse," she said.  
  
Toby just looked at her.

"I got in an accident on the way to work, and this was the shirt Josh and Sam found me. See the cut on my forehead?"  
  
"Yeah, I noticed that. Are you okay?"  
  
"Yes." They sat in silence for a few minutes, then she asked, "How did you know it was his sweater? I didn't even know."

"I must have seen him in it. I probably remembered it because it's very out-of-place."  
  
"What's wrong with it? It's a very nice men's sweater."

"Nothing. Why are you defending Danny Concannon?"  
  
"I'm not! I'm defending the sweater!"

Josh and Sam came in and Josh told Toby, "It's a nice sweater. Leave her alone."  
  
"I never said that it wasn't a nice sweater. It's just that...Never mind."  
  
"If it was another person's sweater he wouldn't have a problem," CJ told Josh and Sam.

"I don't care whose sweater it is," Toby said. "Do you really believe I have time to worry about whose clothes you borrow?"  
  
"When it's Danny? Yes, you seem to care. I barely even speak to him anymore, mostly to appease you. We haven't had a conversation with the door closed in months! This is all at your suggestion."  
  
"It's not my personal problem. I'm just telling you how to prevent trouble from other people."  
  
"Maybe if you had defended me rather than try to solve some problem, we'd all be a lot happier right now," she told him.

"Who's included in that 'we'?" he asked her.

"What 'we'?"

"You just said, 'We'd all be a lot happier right now.' Who's 'we'? You and Danny? Because there is a lot me preventing happiness there than an open door."  
  
"I wasn't talking about me and Danny!" CJ told him.

"Then who were you talking about?"  
  
"I don't know. Everybody, I guess. If we ever looked out for each other..."  
  
"Two things, then I'm done," Toby said. "First, we can't always afford to look out for each other. That doesn't apply here, but you should know that, because it will come up, probably soon." This is about the best way for me, you, or anyone else to look out for you, CJ. Or for Danny for that matter." Toby looked away.

CJ did not know whether to be angry, touched, or hurt. She cleared her throat. "So, basically, you're saying you fear for me professionally?"

"Yes, but that's only part of it. No one wants to see you hurt personally either," Toby said, not meeting her eyes.

"Danny would never use me for a story, if that's what you mean."  
  
"That's not what I mean," Toby said quietly.

"What did you mean?" CJ asked, hearing her voice rise in spite of herself. She turned to Josh and Sam, and asked again, "What does he mean?"  
  
The room was silent for a minute, then Josh said, "Um, Danny doesn't have the best track record with women."  
  
"And you know this how?"  
  
"We find out a lot about all the reporters who cover the White Hours. That includes talking to people who know them in other, um, capacities," Josh told her.

"About things that are totally irrelevant?"

"When you talk to ex-wives, things come up," Josh said.

"Ex-wives aren't the best source of information on character," CJ rationalized, more for herself than as an argument.

"Maybe not," Sam said, "but there must be some reason he has three."

  
CJ began to speak, but Toby interrupted her. "This conversation is over. CJ's an adult, and whatever she wants to do is her decision, so long as she keeps confidential information confidential, which she does, will, and would. Now, we should get these figures together before Leo gets here."  
  
"I'm here. So, what do you have?" Leo asked, and sat down.

"Not much," Sam said as he slid a piece of paper across the table.

Josh shook his head. "It's a lot if you know how to read the numbers."

"No," Sam argued. "The figures are too objective. It doesn't mean anything."  
  
CJ tuned out the conversation at this point. Nothing was going to be solved or accomplished.

Toby's comment had not been lost on her. He trusted her, at least her integrity if not her judgement.

  
"CJ?" Josh was talking to her.

"Yeah?"  
  
"What do you think?"  
  
"About the numbers?"  
  
"About the numbers."  
  
She sighed. "Mostly, the polling asked all the wrong questions. The only useful number there is the approval rating, and we don't know if people are disapproving of the President or his policy or whatever else it is that upsets people. And with the other questions having been so poorly phrased, we have no idea how to being to fix things."  
  
"Exactly," Sam said.

"So we're just going to do nothing until we get the next polling results?" Leo asked.

"Look," Josh said, tapping the papers, "there are things we can do. On page three..." He flipped through the pile of papers in front of him, trying to find page three.

"Is this going to take long?" CJ asked. "I have a lot of work to get done today."  
  
"No, we're done," Leo said.

"Leo!" Josh exclaimed. "If you'd just listen."  
  
"Sam and CJ are right. Get back to work," Leo said, and left.

CJ jumped up and left the room, ignoring Josh calling after her. She went to her office, locked her door, and continued the work in the binders.

She worked straight through until her afternoon press briefing, which was short and routine.

As she walked past Danny on her way out of the press room, she gave him a small smile and quickly clasped his hand. With a look of surprise on his face, he started to stand, but she shook her head.

"What is wrong with me?" she asked herself once back in the sometimes-sanctuary of her office.

Her idle introspection ended when her eyes stopped on the binders on her desk. She sat down and pulled her keyboard to the front of the desk and went back to work.

She has nothing to do the rest of the night except the stack of papers, and she worked for hours.

By the time Josh came to tell her he was going home, she had only one of the nightmare binders left to go.

When Toby came to check on a press release planned for the next day, she was nearly done.

  
An hour later she was finished. She too a deep breath and let it out. She folded her arms on her desk, and burrowed her head down into the mess of arms and sweater, careful not to put pressure on her now-bruised forehead. She had meant to sleep, but she ended up crying instead.

She looked up when she heard the door close. It was Danny. In another moment she felt his arms around her shaking body, then his lips on her forehead. She pulled his face gently so that it was level with hers and met his lips with a soft kiss.

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Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it.

The story behind the story: No one's going to read this. Except for the last paragraph, this was all written in April-May 2001. It was notebook paper that I carried around folded in half and guarded with my life. It was not finished until tonight (2-2-02), because I could not come up with an ending. It was supposed to be profound, with the door closing right there at the end. Hmm.

The inspiration...Well, one of the shirts I lived in was a men's sweater for a while there. Yeah, I wear sweaters in May. I wear them year-round. Also, there was a pile of song lyrics folded up in the papers. They were "What It Feels Like" by Madonna; "Hate This Place" by the Goo Goo Dolls; "For Crying Out Loud" by Meatloaf; "My Madonna" by Dexter Freebish; "Crash and Burn" by Savage Garden; and "Save The Best For Last" by Vanessa Williams.

Feedback can either be left via review here at the site, or emailed to minttown1@aol.com. Or you could just enjoy in silence. That works too.

  
Good night.


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